


Helping Hands

by Koofins



Series: Luck and Ruin: AU's and One Offs [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cigars, Demon Summoning, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Hope y'all like slow burn because this is what my brain apparently wants, Incorporeal Hands, Multi, Multiple hands, Paranormal shenanigans, Sexual Tension, Smoking, Swearing, Voice Kink, accent kink, body horror???, oc au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-01-05 12:22:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21208460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koofins/pseuds/Koofins
Summary: Koryn McDunn is a still-learning witch who’s in need of some help with their craft. After a spell goes right (for once), they find themselves with a few extra pairs of hands! Attached to a very powerful, and charming Incubus.Not that Koryn is complaining.





	1. The Time They Lost Their Deposit

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do something slightly thematic and entirely fucky for October, since otherwise this has been a hell month and it’s my favorite one besides June. And multiple incorporeal hands is one of my favorite things in porn. Also yes, the fic will be changing rating to E in future chapters.
> 
> The magick system is loosely (LOOSELY) based off of Wicca with some personal fantasy magick bullshit thrown in. If there's anything wrong with any of the magick/demon stuff, please let me know. The bulk of this was written between 1-3 am the past two nights. 
> 
> Huge shout-out to my friends Finn, Sunnyhomes, Wielder and the folks at The Cool Side of the Pillow server for being so supportive and reading this in varying stages of unfinished. <3

It was in that moment, I knew I’d fucked up. And not just a normal fuck up. Oh no.

This was the supreme ruler of fuck ups. The catastrophe to end all catastrophes. Because out of every witch I knew, no one could have or ever had, to my shitty memory, screwed up this badly.

By actually casting a spell  _ the right fucking way _ .

For months now, I’d known I needed some help, and had been actively working towards getting that. I wasn’t one to give up, but life had thrown me one too many punches that I couldn’t handle on my own. There were people in my life who supported me, sure, but not any of them who could provide what I felt I needed most: strength and confidence in my magick.

After leaving a coven for their disapproval of my patron gods, and my general dislike for anything resembling structured religion trying to police my life in any way, I needed a connection to magick. Consistency with it. And, let’s be honest, my lonely asocial ass needed a friend around more often, too.

Summoning something from beyond the veil of the mortal realm seemed like a good idea as any.

I’d heard and spoken to others (mostly outside the coven) about summoning creatures made entirely of magick. As a sort of funnel to feed it through, back and forth between wherever it came from and into myself. One had to have a certain amount of inherent magick and willpower to draw them out, as well as time. Lots of all the above.

And apparently the saying ‘where there’s a will, there’s a way’ was not to be taken lightly in this case of impractical magick.

So well had my spell gone, so perfectly cast and drawn out over the past three or four months, that I found myself sharing the most spacious portion of my apartment (my bedroom, because  _ of fucking course it would be there _ ) with an Incubus. Demonology had been one of my favorite subjects to study, so in practice and out of instinct I knew what I was looking at.

Though to be fair, what demonic creature without the intent to seduce the soul out of any hapless mortal’s body had a right to look  _ that _ good?

“Well,” the Incubus before me drawled, in an accent I immediately recognized. Apparently, my will (my thirst, probably) had cultivated what I’d summoned based off of my…tastes. Not only was the accent killer, but the black three piece suit was immaculately tailored. With a lopsided grin, he continued, “Weren’t expecting anyone  _ this  _ good-looking by the expression on your face.” Gesturing with his  _ tail _ , the finned tip sweeping and stirring the air enough to flutter a few of my loose spellbooks pages, the demon prompted me to give him another once over. 

On long, powerful legs that seemed a cross of satyr and feline, he turned on the spot. Staying well within the center of the multiple circles drawn in chalk and well away from the rings of salt. Which was only slightly comforting.

“Enjoying the show?”  _ Gods _ , that accent. Did all Incubi and Succubi come with Irish accents? Or just this one, to torture  _ me _ ? A slow, deliberate swaying from the demon’s hips pulled me from my self deprecating daze, to become fixated on the curves of powerfully built muscle under the layers of black fabric.

Fuck up number one was casting something right. (For once.) Fuck up number two was opening my mouth and letting it run.

“Why’s a demon need a suit?!”

“I can take it off, if you’d prefer.” Every syllable dripping with three times the sinful intent that I’d ever accumulated in my entire life, I shrank in on myself as much as I could sprawled out on the floor as the Incubus turned and leered at me. One hand reaching up to loosen his tie. “ _ Slowly _ .”

“Oh my gods.” Words muffled under my hands, I tried (and failed) to hide the mortification I was drowning in. “Holy shit, I summoned an Incubus.”

“One of the best, might I add.” Such confidence oozed from those words that I peered between my fingers, incredulous despite the demon’s status in the layers of Hell. With practiced ease, he smoothed back his hair some. Impressive, what with the inky black horns. “Lord of a cozy little legion or two.” Winking at me, he waved his hand and produced a cigar, materializing in a wavery thread of smoke. “Or thirty.”

“Thirty legions?!”

“Give or take.” Shaking his hand as if he wasn’t sure of the exact number, the Incubus took a drag from the cigar, smoke billowing from his nostrils in slow, lazy tendrils.  _ Fuck. That shouldn’t be as hot as it is. _ “Now,” with a snap of his fingers, a stack of papers appeared in the air before him, “your contract. Let’s give this a once-over.” With expert pronunciation, he began speaking in Latin, only a few words leaping out and forming any sort of meaning to me. After flipping through a few pages, words blurted out of me again.

“I don’t actually understand any Latin.” I shrank in on myself again when his eyes snapped to me, slit pupils narrowing and flaring visibly.

“Well,” he said after a pause. The first awkward one on his part since appearing in my bedroom. “A little unconventional, my status considered.” There it was again, those ridiculous levels of confidence. Clearing his throat, he flipped back to the first page of the stack of papers, and continued. “I’ll translate then, though that’ll be costing you extra.” Another wink.

“Oh gods, just end me now.”

“Now, now.” That slow, sinful smirk again. “Let’s not skip past the fun parts, love.” Clearing his throat, he read outloud. “‘Stricken up via the pre-summoning activities, the summoning party,’ that’s you, ‘agrees to return, in duplicate, the amount of energy taken from the summoned party,’ yours truly, ‘for the remainder of the summoned’s time spent in mortal planes.’ You get all that, sweetheart?”

“Uh, I think?” I pushed my hair out of my face, rolling so my knees were under me. Still too confused and too shocked to do anything but roll with what was happening, I settled in for a long span of time before my wits returned to me. “I took an intro to being a paralegal.”

“There you go, practically a lawyer.” Ignoring my derisive snort, he continued. “‘I, Legate Terny, Legionnaire of Our Highest Lady Lucifer, hereby agree to the following:

“‘First, that no intentional harm may come to the Summoner: one Koryn Hope McDunn, formerly of the Lone Star Coven, by my hand or the hands of my servants. Second, that the act of energy transfer will not cause physical pain.’ Not counting, of course, that you should  _ want _ it to.” Another wink, and if I could I would have ripped up the carpet under me and lived under it with the dust motes and bugs. “‘Third, that with all the powers at my disposal, energy transfer from here until the terms of our contract are fulfilled, I shall come to them and deliver unto them complete, and total pleasure, the likes of which they have not and will not know for the rest of their natural life.”

“Holy shit can you please stop talking.”

“Ah ah, patience, only a few more pages left. Spent quite a lot of time watching you while you set this up, I know you’re a stickler for details.” Pointedly ignoring my mortified groan, he went on. “‘By agreeing to this contract, the summoner also agrees to the following. First, that no harm, intentional or otherwise, shall come to the summoned by their hand.’ The same applies as in my first term, of course, though you’ll have to pack quite a bit of a punch to manage that. ‘Second, that they will not strike up a secondary contract with another demonic entity while their contract with the currently summoned is active. Third, that they will not attempt to sever the contractual bonding with the summoned.’ You mortals are so tricky when it comes to these binding agreements.

“‘Last, both parties hereby agree that no transfers of energy, or activities outside of transfers, happen unless willing and enthusiastic consent is given by both parties. If either should--’”

“Wait.” As before, the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could hold them back, as I scrambled to comprehend what the last statement had been. “You’re...okay, you’re an Incubus.”

“Last I checked, one milennia ago.”

“And you gather energy by fucking the souls out of people.”

“Ah, I love it when you talk dirty to me. Though, it’s a little more complex than that, but in so many words, yes.”

“So...you’re saying you can’t  _ take _ that from me, and I can’t push myself on you.” At the minute tilt of his head, it slowly dawned on me that  _ I  _ was the one confusing him. Fidgeting at the entirely uncomfortable subject I was unwilling to blurt out (unlike everything else spilling out of my mouth), I struggled to continue. “Isn’t that, uh...isn’t ‘taking,’ willing or not, what demons are all about?”

“What? You--you think I’m going to force myself on you, just because I punish the souls of true and fully damned?” Sounding truly offended, the ‘Lord’ Terny scoffed. “The mortal plane sends down the monsters to  _ us _ , Ms. McDunn. We don’t make monsters.” An old, deep pain flashed in his cool green eyes, and I felt a pang of concern. For a  _ demon _ . But it was just as quickly gone, as he casually straightened his tie, all thoughts of teasing me earlier apparently gone. “Now. Do the finer terms of the contract sound acceptable to you? During the screening process we fine tune the contract to suit the needs of the summoner, and there are of course pages upon pages more that I could read out loud to you. But I am a very busy legate, and I’m certain we can comb over everything in long,” with deliberate motions, the tip of his tongue slid over very white teeth, “ _ excrutiating _ detail.”

Panic gripped me then. I’d known a long time ago that whatever ‘Heaven’ was, it wasn’t for me. Too much perfection, too much serenity and bliss and bullshit. But the idea of handing over my soul, to the leader of multiple legions of demon underlings...terrified me. No matter how wickedly attractive.

“S-so, you know what I wanted out of this summoning, right?”

“Mind numbing pleasure the likes of which your feeble mortal mind cannot hope to fathom?” At that I scoffed, folding my arms across my chest as I leaned back against my bed.

“I think you’re underestimating how degenerate my mind is, Mr. Terny.”  _ What. Are. You. Doing?! _ My subconscious was blaring the Kill Bill sirens at full blast, and I knew I was visibly shaking as the Incubus sank down to a crouch in the summoning circle. Eyes level with mine, cat’s eye pupils blowing so wide only a thin ring of pale green remained. Despite the fact that he’d seemed unable to leave the circle, I found myself reeling back, the confidence I’d scraped together crumbling in an instant.

“Oh, young witch,” he chuckled, low and dark as he stroked a finger thoughtfully over his immaculately trimmed facial hair. “We’re going to have lots of fun testing that theory out, you and I.”

“Wh...uh, mmguh.”

“It’s the eyes, isn’t it? I’ve been told they’re quite striking.” Rocking back slightly, the Incubus gestured casually, the picture of nonchalant grace. “We’ve an eternity to fine tune the contract, though I do need to know how many times I’ll need to be here to, ah, break that mattress in with you.”

“Uh, is-isn’t there anyone...less...I mean, I don’t think  _ you’re _ what I was um...what I was looking for.” Instantly regretting my words, I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for a violent outburst from the high ranking demon I’d just insulted.

“Well! That’s twice you’ve made a slight against my honor.” Eyes popping open, I watched as he stood to his full height, horns almost scraping against the ceiling as he did so. Another wink, and I felt my skin burning under his stare. “Lucky for you, I’m a hard creature to offend. To answer your question: I’m  _ exactly _ what  _ everyone _ is looking for. And, with all the power you used for this summoning, I’m afraid there can’t be any trades going on. I’m curious myself to find out where you tapped into that little wellspring. Not often a solitary witch can summon a legate, especially one of your affiliations.”

“I mean, I didn’t summon  _ you _ on purpose.” Out of some childish want to hide myself, I groped around behind me until I found a blanket, pulling my knees into my chest and covering everything except my face. “I just wanted a little help with spells, and shit I need to get done around the house, not...what  _ you’re _ offering.”

Silence fell again. I’m usually ones to completely miss when they’re awkward, often drifting off into my thoughts until normalcy comes back. But this? This was awkward. Because, so far as I knew, an Incubus was very, very far removed from what I’d been trying to draw into my life.

“...you mean to tell me, you were trying to contract a demon to be your  _ maid _ ?” Covering my face, I nodded, my mortification getting the better of me. If the universe could have opened up and swallowed me into the void at that moment, I wouldn’t have objected. “So, you managed to open a portal strong enough, on your own, to let one of the highest ranked Incubi in all of Hell’s realms, to the mortal realms. To fucking  _ wait on you _ ?!”

“I just said I didn’t mean to summon  _ you _ !” With an exasperated groan, I flopped onto the floor on my side, curling even further into as tight a ball of self loathing as I could. “This is bullshit.”

“I’ll say.” At that I lifted the part of the blanket covering one side of my face, just to glare at him. Hands on his hips, he looked every part as frustrated as I was done with the situation, tail twitching rapidly at the tip. As he continued, his accent seemed to get thicker, and I swear I heard him  _ growl _ a few times. “This is a job for the imp legates, can’t fuckin’ believe...you  _ seriously  _ didn’t intend to summon an Incubus? One of  _ my _ caliber? Because the amount of energy you took to open up that portal is meant for creatures much more powerful than an imp.”

“No!” Rolling to get my legs back under me, I stood, letting the blanket fall to the floor. “I’m--here, look...fuck where is it?” Searching frantically, I combed through the various ingredients laid out near the circle, eventually finding the green binder I’d been looking for. I could feel his eyes watching me as I flipped through the pages, until I found the one I’d used and turned it around to face him. “See? ‘Summoning Circle for a Lesser Magickal Creature.’”

“‘...for the purposes of assistance in the practice of magick, or companion--’  _ companionship _ ?!” With another exasperated sound, Terny’s hands were thrown upwards, and I watched in numb horror as he began to pace.

Outside the circle.

“Well, this is just  _ superb _ . I haven’t the time to pal around with a little witchling and wash their feckin’ dishes for them. I’ll be folding up your wash, will I? Having movie nights?!” Using my book of shadows as a flimsy shield, I leaned away when the Incubus legate stood inches from me. “This is a fine mess you’ve gotten us in. I wasn’t fuckin’ with you when I said I’m busy.”

“Can’t you just, not do the contract?!”

“There isn’t any way to find my equal, and believe me, I am  _ sorely _ tempted to find a loophole. Her Highest’s fury be damned.” Murmuring the last part, he walked around me, sinking down on the edge of my bed. After a lengthy silence, he stared up at me with narrowed eyes. “You really had to resort to summoning a demon to have some company?”

I fidgeted. “What happened to you apparently knowing what I wanted out of this?”

“Your summoning spell is  _ woefully _ outdated.” Sighing heavily, elbows resting on his thighs, the legate gave me a long once over. “Regardless of intention, if the contract isn’t struck up, I’ll be taking payment of some kind.” One finger lifted when I sucked in an alarmed breath. “Not in  _ that _ context. I’m a tricksy bastard, but I’m not heartless.”

“Demons have hearts?”

“Beating, bleeding, deeply feeling ones, sweetheart.”

“Alright...okay, fine. Say, hypothetically, I did agree to the terms. I sign the contract. What will you be doing for me, since you’re apparently the busiest demon in all the realms of Hell?” Better to get it all out than let myself stew on it, I waited, already knowing I wouldn’t like the answer.

“Mortals. Always putting themselves first.” For a moment he seemed lost in thought, the cigar appearing again in a tendril of smoke, the end glowing a soft gold as he took a long draw. “Right. I can make that happen.”

“Would you be willing to, though?”

There was a pause, long enough as he watched me that I got a good look at him. A really good look at him. It was unnerving how human his appearance was, not counting the legs, tail and horns. He didn’t seem much older than I was, despite his earlier comment about millenia and how he’d been around since before that point. 

That thought alone was mind boggling, and I left it to die after it became too much for me to wrap my head around.

“For someone so concerned they won’t be able to give consent, you sure do seem concerned about mine.” His tone was just a little too nonchalant, an air of disinterest too thick for even my dense ass to miss. Clearly, that meant more to him than what he wanted to let on. I latched onto that, and pressed on.

“You seemed pretty against it before.” Swallowing thickly, I set my book of shadows down, and decided to get the worst of it out quickly. “If you don’t, I guess take whatever you need to in exchange. I dragged you all the way here, fair is fair.”

“Oh, let’s not be hasty, witchling,” the Legate Terny said, standing in one smoothe motion. My neck was already starting to strain from having to tilt my head back to look at him. “See, I’ve decided something just now. Something I think will work for us both, in the end.”

“I don’t think I like this plan.”

“Somehow I knew you’d say that, but let me finish first. Let’s have a little test run, yeah? See, this contract binds you to me for all of eternity. At the end of your life, your soul is mine. Would’ve been the same case if you’d gotten to summoning an imp for your laziness, but their master would’ve been far, far less forgiving and less forthright about your contract than I am. I’ll give you your help. More help than you’ll know what to do with. And at the end of every month, you’re going to distract me from my day job. Take me out for coffee, a movie.”

“Thought you didn’t like movie night.”

“Never said that. Mortal cinema is predictable, but charming.” One corner of his otherwise straight mouth twitched, implying that he was more amused by my sarcastic interruption than he wanted to let on. “At six months, I’ll be back to either seal the contract for good, all terms and whatnot as is, or I’ll be taking your soul a little early.”

“...how early?”

“What’s that those Christians say? ‘No man, woman, nor those between or outside those parameters will know the time?’ That’s for me to know, and for you to never see coming.” Clearing his throat, he continued. “Does that sound amenable to you, Ms. Koryn McDunn?”

“I mean, I don’t know how you can get that done, but six months is better than now. I think. What about all the mind numbing pleasure?”  _ Wow. I just came out there and said that. _

“That you did.”  _ Oh fuck you _ . “Not before you take me out, love!”

“Oh my gh- could you- okay no more mind reading, please. I still want to know what that...meant.”

“Ooh, it  _ has  _ been a while for you if you’ve forgotten what a good fucking will get you.” Snickering at me as I again willed the universe to swallow me up, the Incubus said, “I don’t get anything you won’t willingly give. But there are other ways the summoner transfers energy. That,” he gestured with a thumb over his shoulder to my bed, “just so happens to be my favorite place to get it from.”

“That is, by far, the most trashy porn dialogue bullshit I’ve ever heard.” For a moment I was proud of how deadpan my tone was, until the legate’s tail began thrashing again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, geeze!”

“Not one for reading body language, are you?” A grin, all teeth and mischief, that had my already overworked heart pounding frantically. “You’re mouthy. I like that in a person. Though, you don’t seem very concerned about your well being.”

“Are you saying I’m stupid?”  _ Because I am. Holy shit, I’m a dumbass. _

“Not at all. I think you’re smart as a whip. Just reckless. Regardless: those are my terms. Do you accept them?”

I don’t know why it was so easy. But it was. For years, things had been slowly eating away at a part of me I couldn’t identify, leaving me mostly numb and tired all of the time. There was medication to help deal with mental illness, sure, and I was fine with that. But it was something deeper, something I’d felt a sparking connection with when my magick went right.

Which was something I wasn’t able to keep up with as often as I wanted. I was too proud to go back to my coven. Too proud to beg my gods to do more of the leg work for me. This wasn’t going to make the numbness go away, I knew. But I hoped it would help me get back on my feet. Eternal consequences be damned.

Rolling my shoulders back, straightening my spine, I held out my right hand.

“I accept.”

“Good.” Nodding, Terny took my hand and pulled me to stand in front of him. Guiding me by my shoulders, he spun me around, and snapped his fingers. The unlit candles that had blown out when he’d appeared in my room what felt like a lifetime ago flickered back to life, the flames an otherwordly pale green. “Lift your hands, palms facing up.” Blinking owlishly at the warmth of his head craned down next to mine, I shakily followed his instructions, nearly jumping out of my own skin when his fingers interlocked with mine, our palms pressed together. His skin was hotter than what I expected, and it took me a moment of revelling in that sensation to register what he was saying. “I also accept the contract’s test run. I willingly give you a fraction of my power, to aid you temporarily with what you wish, in exchange for your soul.”

There it was again. The subtle little spark, increasing with every heartbeat, until it became a humming drone. Starting from the centers of my palms and extending out to my fingertips, and up the lengths of my arms to my elbows. It was a small miracle my knees didn’t buckle, during the seconds that ticked by as the sensation reached an almost unbearable peak.

When the ringing in my ears that I hadn’t noticed until I forced my eyes open stopped, I glanced down.

And shrieked. Probably waking the neighbors.

Not just my hands and the Incubus’s, but a third pair. Taking the place of the demon’s, interlocked with mine, made up of something like smoke and the consistency of jell-o. Only less sticky, and instead of heat and solid flesh, the fingers threaded between mine and dwarfing my hands felt like how TV static sounded. Shock overwhelming me, I leaned further back into the solid, heated wall behind me, jolting when I felt the vibrations of the Incubus’s low chuckling against my back.

“That’s the powerful stuff right there, sweetheart.” Voice still to my ear, I shivered against him when his hands (the real ones) slid their grip around my waist to my stomach, holding me gently against him. “Give it a moment for the bond to take hold before you let go.” I nodded, unable to take my eyes off my hands being held by the duplicate of his. Down to the claws, which I felt snagging on my shirt as he absently stroked just below the hem of my bra.

“What are these?”

“Magickal duplicates,” he rumbled. My eyes nearly fluttered shut at the scrape of his facial hair against my neck. But I couldn’t take my eyes off of what held mine, and with slowly growing horror, the ink beginning to bloom across the surface of my skin. It only took me a moment to register the color almost matched that of his strangely built legs and tail, a little darker and in stark contrast to the rest of me. “There we go, setting in now. These runes,” the frill at the tip of his tail whirled around us both, pointing out the lines beginning to form in green, “will make a connection. Between your powers, and mine. Just a few more seconds, love. Impatient little witchling, aren’t you?”

“With you grunting in my ear like that, yeah.” Another slow chuckle, and his touch lingered as he stepped away, hands sliding off of me. Even his tail brushed lazily against my thighs, and I swayed on the spot, my body instinctively trying to seek out that wall of warmth again. “What happens now?”

“These are your ‘help,’” he explained. At the unfurling of the semi-transparent fingers, I released my death grip. Extending slightly forward, the smoke billowed back to develop forearms, powerful and muscular compared to mine. I winced at the feeling, not nearly as intense but similar to the pins and needles of a limb falling asleep. “They act as your own arms might, with a bit more independence. They also act as conduits for magick, funneling it directly from the fabric that it comes from, plus duplicating mine. To an extent.”

“Can  _ you _ feel them?”

“The same as you can. Though the further in the Lesser Keys I am, the less I’m able to feel.” Nodding, I turned my hands over, finding a five pointed star and the same circles, runes and sigils I’d drawn in chalk into my floor in my palms. “I shudder to think what this will do to your deposit.”

“...oh, shit. Where’s the carpet cleaner?” As I moved to begin searching, the hands swooped ahead of me, deftly plucking the cleaner and brush I’d had on my nightstand for after the spell failed. Narrowly avoiding getting clipped by one of them, I watched as they began cleaning the chalk and some of the candle wax melted into the carpet. Gaping until Terny pushed my mouth closed with one finger, claw tracing a delicate line under my chin.

“Really,” he scoffed, staring at the ghostly hands cleaning up the mess I’d gotten myself into. “Reduced to using my power to help a mortal witchling wash stains off the carpet.” With a long suffering sigh, he snapped his fingers, leaving the carpet spotless in an instant and organizing all the loose papers and other items in neat little piles.

“Now who’s a stickler for details.”

“Smartass.” Gripping me by the chin, the Incubus tilted my head up, forcing my eyes to meet his as his lips curled in a sneer. “You’ll thank me later for that. I look forward to you realizing you’re stuck with me for all eternity, and giving me the praise I deserve.”

“...do you even buy all the supreme demonic overlord bullshit?” My tone was pretty ineffective, what with my lips squished awkwardly by the pressure of the demon’s grip on my face.

“Eh,” releasing me, he wandered back into the exact spot he’d materialized before. “Bullshit until it becomes a reality.” With a wink, he used the tip of his tail to drag a circle into the carpet, the creases between fabric glowing ominously in its wake. “Should anything go wrong, which is a very  _ real _ possibility knowing your luck, will one of the duplicates to snap three times. I’ll be back in a month, Kory.”

“Sure thing, uh...what  _ can _ I call you, anyway?”

Eyes snapping to mine, he stared me down, leaving me locked in place as the air around me went still. Shafts of light began extending upwards, as the human skin tone melted away, leaving dark gray and black markings. As the slow grin bloomed on his face, his features turned steadily more beastly, a muzzle with glittering white fangs and tall pointed ears growing on the top of his head. And as I was caught in the glare of the demon who I’d given ownership of my soul, he spoke.

“Calden will do. Be seeing you soon, sweetheart.”

Once the light faded and the tall, broad figure disappeared, silence fell once again. Only slightly more bearable than before, with the strange tingling of magick humming more constantly in my blood. Staring at the hands hovering a few inches above mine, I let out a dismayed sound.

“Oh, wow.” The hands twitched, turning over as I turned mine. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

One of the hands turned itself from side to side, in a gesture I took to mean ‘ehh.

‘Pretty much.’


	2. Once When the Air Fryer Nearly Exploded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koryn gets used to the hands having some will of their own, and tries to enjoy their day off. Calden drops by for his first visit, and shenanigans ensue when he decides he wants to interrupt.

_ Tap _ - _ tap-tap _ .

“Mmmngh…”

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

“Fffffugging, ffive more mmm’nutes.”

Finally, blessed silence. Four minutes, fifty-nine seconds of blissful quiet, practically baking alive under multiple blankets pulled up to my head.

The slamming of two solid somethings jolted me up and out of my bed, knocking my elbow into the wall with a bang, and kicking my nightside stand over. With another slam, my bedroom door opened, light flooding my already blurry vision.

“Fuck- _ dammit _ , Hans! I don’t have to be at work for another  _ hour _ !!”

Furious squeaking drew my attention to the white rectangular blob dominating one of my walls, my eyes squeezed nearly shut as I strained to see what the two hands were writing. My sight cleared completely as my glasses were shoved onto my head. Still foggy-headed, I glared at the dry erase board, mumbling the elegant script. Understanding all of two words throughout the multiple sentences, I glared at the free hand floating next to my head.

“I can’t read your fuckin’ cursive, Lefty, for fuck’s sake.” More furious squeaking as the right hand cleared the board with the eraser. My brows furrowed closer and closer together as I read out the big, blocky words being harshly written down. “‘You...forgot...to...set...alarm--’”

I scrambled to my feet, cutting myself off with a shriek I knew I’d get shit for from my neighbors, not counting the slamming and shouting from before. Snatching the articles from my uniform from the night before, I swatted away the hands as they zipped around me in my path. They still passed through me at times near the edges, leaving me shuddering and the pale green fingers twitching.

“Yeah.” Hopping and nearly falling on my ass as I pulled my pants on, I grumbled. “S’weird, I know.” One arm through my shirt, I stopped to look at the hands making my bed. “You think we’ll ever get used to it?”

_ No _ , Hans, the right hand signed. Humming mild disappointment, I pulled on my shirt and searched frantically for my shoes. Why I insisted on ending my day stripping like my clothes were on fire and tossing them around my room like the chaotic disaster I was could be anybody’s guess.

Just so, how no one had noticed the hands was also well beyond me.

Glancing at my calendar in the mirror, I confirmed it had been exactly two weeks since they’d been…’given’ to me. Bonded to me? And remembered, cringing, the way I’d been acting. Jumping anytime someone approached me, any time the hands phased through someone else, or whenever they were in use. No one had pointed out the way my hands looked ‘stained,’ or the strange runic markings and circles on both my palms.

I probably should have asked Calden how the fuck these things worked.

There had been odd stares, of course. But there weren’t days when that didn’t happen. It would have been weird without more than three a day. My being a witch and an empath made things just vaguely different around me. Even people without a drop of magick in their blood could feel something. Those with it could  _ see _ things, of course.

But with eyes on me all the time, I’d been paranoid each day that  _ someone _ would have seen something.  _ Someone _ had to have seen the hands fixing my collar, or pulling doors open for me. Coworkers had noticed how jumpy I’d been. Regular customers recognized that I looked tired.

Sleepless nights worrying over if someone from the coven, or worse, some high-ranking religious affiliated person had seen. And that I was the next target for a literal witch hunt. Or worse.

An exorcism.

With a full-body shiver, I tried not to let my thoughts dwell on the warnings all coven members got while we studied various aspects of magick and creatures made from it. That though the world was inherently tied to magick, though we as trained and officially recognized witches, our places in the world weren’t ever completely secure. There had been, and were currently those who had been targeted for the magickal ability they’d been born with. Despite worldwide recognized covens training many of us, magic was something that not everyone understood, a strange unknown to the majority of the world.

And the unknown and misunderstood were more often than not seen as dangerous, so sometimes it was better in the opinion of the general public to chase us off. Or find a way to make us non-threatening in a much more permanent, and deadly way.

Spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste, I accepted the help to dab off the excess. This was when the hands were the most fussy, usually, something I couldn’t decide was creepy or, I don’t know. Sweet? Based on the knowledge that I’d only in the past few days accepted as fact, not just hallucinations, that these were in fact copies of an Incubus demon legate’s hands. The fact that they were so insistent on making sure I was physically taking care of myself was...weird. 

_ Probably just part of the spell _ , I thought.  _ Even if he didn’t like it, the whole ‘serving’ thing was part of my side of the contract. _

Those were questions I’d have to ask him when he came back. A date I vaguely knew wouldn’t be that far off by the end of the day. With growing dread over another day at my grueling job and another run-in with Calden Terny, I finished my pre-work routine. Still behind and hurrying out the door. Lefty snapped behind me, prompting me to halt with one foot out my front door as the clawed finger pointed to my dry-erase board.

“Oh, shit,” I mumbled, reading the words written in elegant but easy to read words out loud. “‘Exactly seven days until I’m dropping in, Witchling.’” I snorted as Hans and Lefty shooed me out the door, drifting after me. “Great. Cool. Can’t wait!”

  
  


_ One Week Later _

That morning, I woke to silence. To no hands tapping, jostling, or slamming doors to wake me up. No alarm set. 

The first of two days off.

With a long, elated groan, I promptly rolled over and went right back to sleep.

By the time I woke up, it was to my blankets being slowly dragged off my body. There wasn’t any rush to the second pair of hands pulling them off; apparently they weren’t in any hurry, either. Which was understandable. Despite the nearly twelve hours I’d just slept, my body still ached from the nearly ten hours of overtime I’d worked over the past week. No doubt the spectral hands had to be feeling some of that, with how much I’d been relying on them.

That morning routine was a lot less rushed. A lot less banging and tripping. Eventually ending up with me sprawled out on my sofa, idly drinking sugar and creamer with a splash of coffee, waiting on left-over pizza to warm up in my air fryer. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Hans and Lefty drifting within their usual vicinity idly, sluggishly tidying up whatever they found out of order.

In the past week, I’d noticed something. Varying levels of alarming and comforting. 

Sometimes both. 

The first of which that the legate’s copied hands were just shy of being perfectionists or clean freaks. Making me wonder if their original was just as obsessed with cleanliness. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the better part of the night after my shift the day before that first visit wasn’t spent deep cleaning my apartment. Usually a chore I saved for the four-month check in with the apartment manager or whenever I had to get something fixed.

While thinking about his ‘appointment’ with me, I considered telling him I’d been doing back breaking work just to make him feel welcome, and to cut out any bullshit early. But that would require looking him in the eye for far longer than I was comfortable with, when recalling just how attractive he was.

The cleanliness of the copies had been helpful for their intended purpose, though. Two weeks after Calden Terny had shown up in my apartment, I’d decided to organize and take stock of my drawer of magickal ingredients and books. The hands had proven completely necessary in this act, and how I’d discovered their cursive was completely illegible to me. The first list I’d had to take out of my Book of Shadows, after painstakingly copying the order and quantity down from what they’d written.

What I noticed after picking up on the hands being clean freaks was that no one would or could see the copies, or the state of my own hands. And anything done by the hands went unseen by everyone else, too, which was fortunate in cases like the hands putting up dishes on a rack a foot over my head. There had been more than one moments like these that I’d taken down actual, physical notes on, and felt like a complete idiot for doing so. Would the legate  _ really _ answer my questions about them truthfully?

I had very little hope to hold onto, but I did cling to it.

Only just that day, I picked up on two more things. The first being that the hands seemed to be...slowing down that day. Which was concerning. So much so that I concluded, with no small amount of alarm, that I had come to accept this was part of my natural life now.

The hands had, to a degree, become the friends I’d needed. I’d gone so far as to  _ name _ them. Picked up on the fact that one hand did things with a bit more flair than the other, and was glad that the one had some form of internal clock for whenever I forgot I was cooking something. The latter of which was pointedly absent, as I noted when the air fryer dinged and I could smell something burning from the couch.

“Aw, hell.” Now came the mad scramble to maneuver around furniture and appliances, avoid tripping over shoes and not drop the plate once I removed the still-steaming (and slightly smoking) pizza from the fryer. With a dejected groan, and another mental note to buy another fryer, I tossed the slices in the trash and turned to my fridge to scrounge for something else.

“Just came back, and you’re already eager to send me home?”

The string of curses that came tearing out of me was violent enough to leave me in a coughing fit, as I wheeled around in the kitchenette to find the legate standing a few feet away from me. Said coughing fit reached a near feverish pitch when I took in the more casual attire, and the—

“Where are your  _ horns _ ?!” The bark of laughter that came out of him seemed more surprising to  _ him _ than me. But for a moment, in the midst of my shock I felt a thrill of elation the likes of which I couldn’t remember experiencing for the majority of my adult life. The joy of making someone laugh like that, specifically  _ him _ , made me momentarily giddy. Grinning like a fool.

_ Hm. Don’t like that. Better stop that before it goes somewhere dumb. _

“Not born with a filter on you, were you?” There was the lopsided grin I absolutely had not been thinking about for hours before passing out last night. All of him was entirely too distracting, even more so now that he was apparently in an entirely human 'incognito tab mode.' And the confidence in every minute movement and gesture that honestly made me envious. There was more confidence in one of his fingers than there was in my entire body. Backtracking to his question, I scowled up at him, clapping my hands against the sides of my head.

“No mind reading.”

“I wasn’t!” Holding up his own hands, the legate chuckled, much more subdued but still something. “You just saying what’s on your mind, no fear, no hesitation...it’s refreshing.”

“Oh I have fear,” I said, sidling around him so I didn’t have the cupboard to my back. “And hesitation. A lot of both. I’m just a dumbass and don’t know how to keep my mind shut around attrac-aaah...ahh. Hm.”

“What was that, love? Do go on, I’ve missed your style of flattery.”

“Nope.” Shaking my head, I made my way back to my couch, stuffing myself into my worn down corner and hugging one of my pillows to my chest. “I’m better off shutting up now.”

“That’s fine,” he said at length, wandering into the living area after me. Flinging himself on the opposite side of the couch, Calden sprawled out with one leg hanging off the side in that perfect nonchalant repose I’d come to associate with him. I risked a glance at him to find him with his eyes glued on me, or something below the top half of my face. Whatever wasn’t hidden by my pillow. Eventually those pale green eyes roved up, meeting mine as his lips curled up on one side.  _ Slowly _ . “I’m rather enjoying the view of all that leg you’re flashing.”

Turning a shade of scarlet that probably set some sort of record (in my life, at least), I quickly pulled my oversized t-shirt over my legs. Creating a comical and completely unflattering cocoon, but at least most of me was hidden under. He chuckled again, earning another glower.

“Is there no heads-up you can give me? Or do you like just materializing in every mortal’s apartment who you’re contractually obligated to mortify to death? At the  _ worst _ moment imaginable.”

“Afraid I didn’t catch your number when we last met, witchling.” I grunted, watching the hands floating slowly by. Anything better than watching him. As if the three piece suit wasn’t bad enough, the new more casual attire now was much more revealing. “And you make it sound like I make it a habit of popping up in mortal’s lives.”

“...you make it sound like this is your first contract with one.”

“Far from it. Tall, deadly and handsome,  _ and _ with a Dublin accent?” Risky, but I chanced a quick look at him, earning a wink that made something in my gut squirm and flutter. “I’m a hot commodity.” Settling even further into the couch, he let out a long groan, one that plucked at the  _ something _ . For a moment I was roiling in those weird sensations until he nudged me in the thigh with his boot. “Go put on some clothes, let’s get out of here.”

“But it’s my day off—”

“Mine too, love!” As he sat up, he drew my attention back to him to see his gesturing to the hands floating nearer to me. They  _ definitely _ seemed more lethargic. “Part of our test-trial, remember?  _ You _ distract  _ me _ .”

“I have movies, games and enough time to embarrass the life out of myself right here. Besides, I don’t know about Incubi, but I need more than feral fuck energy to survive. I haven’t eaten all day.”

“I’d wager it’s a  _ lot _ more complex than that, but,” he paused, laughter in his smile and in his eyes as he folded his arms across his chest. “Get dressed, and I’ll take you out for—” a pause to look at his watch, then back up at me without moving his head, “-- _ late _ lunch. Damn, what the Hell you been doin that you haven’t eaten yet?”

For a moment I was silent, squinting at him. A big part of me didn’t like how much like a date his offer sounded. Hunger ran out, and before I could give myself time to rethink my exit, I launched myself over the arm of the couch and made a mad dash to my bedroom. Ignoring the delighted howl from my (sort of) unexpected guest, at the flash of legs and possibly my ass he’d just gotten.

This was going to be a long day.   
  


Two things became abundantly clear when we got to the sushi place I’d suggested.

One: the legate was going out of his way to embarrass me.

And two: he was way,  _ way _ out of my league, and the whole world seemed like they could see it.

It wasn’t often that I wondered what the world saw of me, other than a sense of self preservation. Not being used to having my ego bruised, I tried (and failed) to notice the daggers glared my way, scoffs, the conversations some didn’t even bother trying to keep quiet.

Whispers that I was too big to be with him. That I looked like I’d just rolled out of bed. (To be fair, I had.) Too short, too young,  _ what _ was I wearing?

“Hey Witchling.”

After a few seconds of staring at him, I noticed how quiet everything else around us was. Save for the music, and the waiter asking for our drink. The expectant look on his face, calm and questioning, as if he hadn’t noticed.

Only he  _ had _ .

“Oh.”

“Perks of being out with a legate.” With an idle twitch in his finger, the sound came rushing back, almost too intensely. I winced, and the sound fell away again. “Sorry.”

“Just...warn me, next time.” Rubbing my temples, I glanced around, but no one seemed to notice my discomfort save for him. “So, can they not  _ see  _ either right now?”

“No, they can.” With a broad grin at the waiter, who seemed momentarily dazed by just an  _ expression _ , he waved at the booths nearby. “Just nothing here to see save for a few empty seats.”

“You can’t just- how do you-  _ what _ ?!”

“You’re a thick one, yeah? How’d you get into your coven?”

“Wow.” I turned my attention from him to the belt rolling next to our booth. “You can get fucked.”

“One can only hope.” With a sigh bordering on dramatic, the legate across from me lapsed back into silence, watching me. My hunger once again winning out over my nerves, I tucked in, downing two plates and ordering another. “How do you use these things?”

“...you’re a legate, who can silence an entire restaurant, and turn yourself  _ and _ a witch invisible except to the waiter,” I stared pointedly at the chopsticks he held, one to each hand, “and you don’t know how chopsticks work?”

“Alright wiseass, I have my skills, you have yours.” Scowling was oddly cute on him, which set off alarm bells in my head, as he tried multiple times to mimic how I was holding my own chopsticks. And failed. Tried again. Failed. By the time he’d gone for a third, I was holding back laughter, and failing in that. “So now we see they have a sense of humor, well, that’s good. Meanwhile I’m over here, starving. Thanks for that.”

“Oh my god, you giant baby.” Exasperated though I was, I slid out of my side of the booth to sit next to him. Sliding my last plate in front of him, I plucked out the sticks from his hands. “Which is your dominant hand? And don’t go somewhere gross with that.”

“You leave  _ so _ many openings, it’s difficult. But I’ll reign myself in this once.” He paused as I held the chopsticks up impatiently. “Fine, right handed.”

“Mmkay.” Swallowing my apprehension, I slid closer to him, shrinking in on myself as much as possible while sliding one of the chopsticks into his hand. “So, hold it like you would a pen,” I slipped the other under his thumb, “and you use these two fingers to grip.”

_ It’s just touching, Koryn. _ “So, you use this to brace the food.”  _ Holy shit, I have to use both hands just to guide his one. His hands are huge _ . “And you grab it, like this, and then you--”

_ He’s smiling. Why’s he smiling.  _ With my hand still looped around his arm as he maneuvered the food into his mouth, the Incubus maintained amused, unwavering eye contact. I could feel his breath across my knuckles, too hot for a human’s despite looking the spitting image of a human. And I’d gotten close enough to him that I could feel the rumble of approval in his chest as his lips closed around the ends of the chopsticks, close enough that I could feel the prick of his beard on my wrist.

“Oh you  _ absolute _ bastard.”

“Guilty as charged,” he chuckled, and I felt the weird warmth spreading through me among the wild mortification that threatened to burn me alive. “Here, it’s only fair I return the favor.” Before I could protest anymore, I was being fed one of the rolls from a plate he’d deftly plucked off the belt. With his fingers.

Obviously, this man was trying to kill me to claim my soul early. But I felt too numb from shock to do anything except chew on the roll he’d popped into my open mouth.

“I told you, too many openings.” The rough pad of his thumb brushing rice off of my chin snapped me back into myself, and I glowered at him. Snatching his hand back as though I’d snapped at him, he laughed again. “No need for violence, now. Part of the contract, remember?”   


“Did you glamor me?” He blinked, and I prodded him in the side with two fingers, making him squirm away from me with a surprised grunt. “I’m  _ serious _ . Did you glamor me?!”

“I haven’t glamored you, stop jabbing with those ice picks!” With a huff, I pushed myself to the opposite end of his side of the booth. “Lady’s Horns, what on Earth is wrong with you? You were acting of your own volition, sweetheart. If you’re after getting pissy with anyone it should be yourself.”

“Obviously, you  _ knew _ how to use those!”

“Up until you showed me how, I knew no such thing.” Adjusting his jacket, he huffed, shooting me a glare of his own. “Seriously, what is  _ wrong _ with you? I’ve lent you a generous amount of my power for a month, no strings attached besides being a way for me to get away from my job for a day. You act as though I’m torturing you!”

“Aren’t you though? I know you saw and heard. Isn’t this part of it? You just make me feel so bad about myself being around you that I just, I just... _ shit _ .” I ran my hands through my hair, a shaky breath escaping me. “I get it now, the whole glamoring us so no one sees or hears us. Spare yourself from being seen sitting with the frog-faced, chunky shortstop.”

“Here now.” I flinched when I felt a hand on my arm, but had no fight left in me when he guided me (gently, I noted) to face him. For a stretch of silence that bordered on uncomfortable, he watched me, his expression unreadable. I felt the probings of his magick, and snapped up my own defenses instinctively. “Should have expected that,” he mumbled, grimacing as he let his hand slide down my arm. “Should have expected all of it, if I’m being honest. The defensiveness, the hurt feelings, paranoia.”

“I am not  _ any _ of those things.” The moment the words left me, I knew I was being  _ all _ of these, and if it were possible my mortification increased tenfold. “Ugh. Okay, I am. But do you really have to be such a smug bastard about unsettling me?”

“Smug bastard has been woven into my being since before humans became civilized, sweetheart.” Shock of knowing just how impossibly old he was cooled some of my anger, giving him the opening to plow ahead. “Look, Witchling. I don’t relish the idea of my power being used to help you with your busy work. I know it’s not what you wanted out of the deal either. And maybe we’re taking shots at each other to get the resentment out of our system?”

“....maybe.”

“Now I’m not saying the blame lies more heavily on you, but you should know I do enjoy my nature. But as I told you before, your consent is very important to me--your contract.” Mostly due to him plowing ahead, I didn’t get a chance to really think about the slip-up on Calden’s part. “If this, being out with a demon, isn’t your thing, we’ll find something else.”

“Some days I just don’t have the energy for it.” It felt like a lifetime for me to get the sentence out, and I was genuinely surprised by how patiently he waited for me. Fidgeting, I tugged at my sweater, looking away from him. “You said you did screening, right? Does that mean you know the kind of person I am?”

“Only base, carnal desires that even with this spell, I won’t mention out loud in public. Which are telling, but not completely so.” He snickered when I swatted his arm. “Something on your mind in that regard, the whole who you are as a person bit?”

“I don’t...date. Or I haven’t, in years.” As I struggled to continue, my mouth went dry, and I swore viciously at myself mentally. “I mean, I find anyone attractive really, but...comparatively, we’re just not matched up. And I’ve had people I don’t fit with fuck with me in the past in similar situations.”

“Koryn McDunn, we are well past the age where idiot school kids get dared by their friends to ask you out just to make fun of you for being eager for human connection. Er, human and demon connection.” I snorted dryly at that, and he continued. “Point is, I’ve already told you I like your spunk. I would have found some other way to get your soul if I really didn’t want to be in your company.”

“Aww,” I scrunched up my face, “you’re just saying that because you want my soul.”

“You did agree to a deal with an Incubus.” He mirrored my expression, making us both laugh as the moment passed. “Now. How about we get the fuck out of here? I’ve had about enough of this shitty seafood.”

“Shitty?! Excuse me, this is my favorite revolving sushi bar, and the food is incredible!”

“Next month, I’m taking you to the coast for some fish so fresh out of the ocean, it’s still flopping on your plate.”

“Could have done without those visuals.” Shuddering, I watched as the waiter drifted over to our table. My eyes darted between the waiter’s glazed eyes and Calden, all charming smiles and irresistible accent, as he paid the check. “So, is it a specific charm magick that lets you silence us and make us invisible?”

“Well, the waiter just wants me to ravage him. Which I have half a mind to.” With a wink to the waiter after he tipped him (very,  _ very _ generously), and leaving him a blushing, babbling mess, Calden gestured for me to leave the booth. As we left, he continued. “But, I am on the job, as it were.”

"Okay that answers exactly none of my questions, also I thought I was a  _ distraction _ from work.”

“The mortal plane is like vacation, insufferable and impossible to please company notwithstanding.” He flicked the end of my nose as I passed under his arm holding the door open. “And it’s mostly just ahh...well, they still see  _ something _ , but it’s innocuous enough that they think they just see someone walking out of their peripheral. Or they can’t make heads or tails of the conversation since everything else drowns us out. It’s sort of a dampener on our being nearby to anyone.”

“That must come in handy for hunting.”

“What  _ do _ you mortals say about us? Really.” He scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. As we walked down the street back to my apartment, I watched him pull out a pack of cigarettes. One soon bobbing from between his lips as he said, “You’d think we’re some sort of cheesy boogey-folk harvesting the souls of newborn kids.”

“Is that whole thing of even a baby’s soul being born with sin true?”

“Fuck it is.” Sounding truly offended, Calden snapped his fingers, the tip of his thumb erupting into flame that he held at the end of his cigarette. All the while giving me an incredulous look, as though I’d suggested the sky was neon green. “Don’t mean to spoil it for you, but most mortal souls are born clean slates, and the ones who  _ aren’t _ have unfinished business. But the sinful ones are  _ ours _ .” 

There would be plenty more times where I would feel like a deer in the headlights with Calden. But this felt significant, jumping from the almost gentle way he’d spoken to me minutes before. In that his grin was all teeth, with no mirth reaching his eyes as he watched me closely. Making sure I knew that he wasn’t talking about  _ all _ of them.

He mostly just meant  _ my  _ soul .

A surge of guilt hit me, a lot of old buried Christian guilt that left me feeling suddenly nauseous. This was a demon. A demon lord, _a Legate_, that I'd practically sold my soul to. I'd seen him in what was probably close to his truest form, and his power probably leave an irreversible stain on my life. Suddenly I was keenly aware of the runes, the dark stains on my hands and wrists, and the adjustment I’d gone through the past month with the spectral hands in my life. But with that sensation was a sort of...comfort.

If I was going to hell, it was nice that I was getting to know the demon who’d be dragging me down there.

“Well, now, not that the attempt at fresh fish wasn’t delicious, but I’m for some real sustenance now.” Taking a long drag off his cigarette, he watched me for a moment, seeming a little lost. “Do you ah...know how to cook?”

Before I answered, I looked around pointedly at the empty air around my arms. “It’d be easier if the hands were here to help.” With a dramatic groan, Calden snapped his fingers, and the hands seemed to flicker into being where they seemed the most comfortable at. “Thank you,” I grinned, leading him back up to my floor. “So, sushi was a bust. What are you in the mood for?” Both my hand and one of his copies pointed back at him halfway up the stairs. “Don’t say anything lewd.”

“If I hadn’t been able to take a dive in your mind before you told me not to, I’d call you a complete prude, Koryn McDunn.” His smirk was absolutely sinful, and it took me a moment to regain my composure. It helped when the static-feeling sensation of my head being jerked around to face forward by one of the hands returned my attention to moving forward. “Know what? You’ve been nothing but full of surprises since I came topside. Why not surprise me one more time?”

_ Hopefully, _ I thought, as I led Calden back to where it all began,  _ this won’t be the last _ .

I did have another five months left, after all, until my soul was forfeit. Maybe somewhere in there I’d find that loophole after all.

Wouldn’t  _ that _ be a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I toootally didn't forget about writing this story! Ha. Haha.
> 
> ...ha.
> 
> Enjoy y'all, I'm full blown monster fucker mode right now so hopefully, chapter three will be here soon.


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